A Further Strife
by Teaandchemistry
Summary: Amy's perfectly content to live quietly and cynically- all she needs is cookie dough, Netflix, and her best friend, Karma. But how does she cope when a world she wants no part in turns her own upside down?
1. a day in the life

_Beep Beep Beep_

Amy clumsily groped around the bedside table, refusing to use her sleepy eyes to find the alarm clock. She took a final swipe, sending the infernal machine flying across the carpet.

Amy had never been a morning person. Alarm clocks were the necessary evil that got her out of bed before midday, but it didn't stop her from abusing the thing every time it made a sound. She rolled over, burying her face in between her pillows. _Just ten more minutes._

A rhythmic buzzing came from her left. _Ugh._ She rolled back over to find her phone skittering closer and closer to the edge of the table. She picked it up before it could move any further- her phone was one noisy thing she absolutely could not do without.

Karma was calling her. At seven thirty in the morning. _Crazy morning person._ Amy touched the "answer" button.

"Karma?"

"Morning, sleepyhead! Got your bushy tail on yet?"

"Ugh. I can barely form sentences."

"You did remember that you're picking me up today?"

Of course she did. Karma had been reminding Amy every day for a week that her parents were going to be out of town.

"I dunno, Karma… seven-thirty-in-the-morning-Amy's a bit forgetful… you might find yourself walking…"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Go back to sleep, you lazy butt. I keep forgetting how grumpy you are in the mornings."

Amy couldn't help but grin as she hung up. God, that girl drove her crazy. _As if it'd ever be any other way._ She flopped back down onto the bed, relishing the coziness.

_knock knock knock knock knock_

_Seriously?_

Amy groaned as she hauled herself from the mattress and trudged across the room to open the door. As soon as she did, Lauren bustled past her, making a beeline for Amy's bathroom.

"Um, excuse me?"

"I need to borrow your hairdryer. Mine isn't working."

"You could have at least asked…"

"Oh, please, you would have agreed anyway."

Lauren was right. Amy was being made to share everything, since Lauren and Bruce had moved in. Farrah was committed to making them as comfortable as possible, which meant that many of Amy's belongings were no longer solely hers. Luckily, she got to keep her room to herself. For the most part.

"Mornin', sweetheart!"

Farrah peered in through the doorway, her hair already perfectly coiffed, not a single strand out of place. An equally well-groomed Bruce joined Farrah in leaning over the threshold. Amy sighed.

"Is there a party in my room, and why wasn't I invited?" Her tone dripped with weary sarcasm.

Farrah looked to Bruce. "It's just a mornin' thing, she'll perk up by breakfast."

Lauren came out of Amy's bathroom, carrying the hairdryer. Amy weighed up the possibility of ever seeing it again, and came up lacking.

"Could everybody please vacate? I need to change."

Farrah chuckled. "Oops! Sorry. Breakfast is in ten."

They left and the door closed. Amy threw her bed-hair back in frustration.

_I really need to invest in a lock._

When Amy pulled up outside Karma's house, Karma was already perched on the edge of the gutter, waiting for her. Karma always looked ridiculously chipper in the mornings. There were never any remnants of sleep left on her face, though Amy honestly didn't know how much of that was due to natural alertness, and how much of it was due to concealer. This morning, though, Karma seemed unusually happy. Her gait more resembled a skip as she strode over to the well-worn chassis of Amy's Jetta.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Amy lifted an eyebrow as she pulled at the gearstick. "Who put Adderall in your coffee this morning?"

"What? No one. Just look at the sky. Not a single cloud."

"Karma. We both know you're not excited about the sky."

Karma looked like she was just about to explode. "Liam Booker's transferring into my math class!" She let out a small squeal and balled her hands into excited fists.

Math was the one subject Amy and Karma didn't have together because, unlike Karma, Amy actually payed attention in math.

"I thought he was in the year above us…"

"He is!"

"Then why is he taking a sophomore-level class?"

"I dunno, something about him taking dropping math for a semester to pick up metalwork, or woodwork, something adorable and artsy like that."

This wasn't what Amy had heard. She'd heard Liam had just blown off every math class in his timetable to go kiss girls in the art room. She didn't mention this to Karma.

Karma's crush on Liam Booker had been a conversation topic between her and Amy for well over a year. While Amy could acknowledge that he was definitely good-looking, she didn't really know what else Karma saw in him.

Karma didn't shut up about Liam for the entire five-minute drive. Amy pulled into the parking lot at school, still nodding and smiling at whatever the hell Karma was saying.

As they got out of the car, Liam's biodiesel screeched into the park beside them. Karma let out a blissful sigh; Amy rolled her eyes and focused on shutting her own outdated vehicle's door. Karma turned to Amy.

"I'm gonna go talk to him. Who knows, maybe he needs a math tutor."

Amy attempted to remain unresponsive to the irony of the statement, but her eyebrows betrayed. Karma giggled.

"See you in history? Third period?" She said, swinging her woven shoulder bag over her head.

"We won't be able to goof off this time- that assignment's due tomorrow."

"And I only have an outline. Why'd you remind me?" Karma whined.

"Because you'd fail if I didn't. Now go bother Liam." Amy replied. Amy thought she'd be used to this by now. Many mornings, Karma would skip off in the direction of a minority group, hoping to find an in with them, only to return to Amy's side by the time the bell went for first period. Still, there was something in Amy that dimmed every time Karma walked away from her. Like a light went off, and it was that little bit harder to see.

That morning, Karma didn't seek Amy out at their spot in the shade of the Arts building. Amy sat and studied alone, hoping, for a reason she didn't quite understand, that Karma and Liam weren't making out in a broom closet. The whole situation gave Amy pause. She and Karma were each other's constants- they shared everything, and had done so since they were in kiddie overalls. Naturally, crushes were a hot topic between them. It seemed that, every week, Karma's eye would have a different apple, but Amy never really noticed anyone else, nor was she interested. Relationships seemed too complicated, on top of school and keeping up with her Netflix queue. She was comfortable- the only people she really needed were her mother and Karma. Karma obviously didn't hold with that. She'd been on the lookout for a boyfriend since serious relationships became a thing. Her affection for Liam had lasted the longest. This bothered Amy- not that it was really any of her concern. But she knew Karma deserved better, and feared seeing her hurt.

A chorus of shouts snapped Amy out of her contemplation. A group of students bustled past her, yelling incoherently at each other, with a conviction that seemed almost offensive to the high school environment. A light blue leaflet floated out of their wake. Amy picked it up.

_Bring the creatures of darkness into the light! Vampire segregation NOW!_

Not the vampire thing again. It had been public knowledge going on a year now, but Amy was still convinced the whole vampire virus was an enormous hoax. It seemed like the stuff disaster films were made of- a bizarre experiment gone wrong, allegedly millions infected… the amount of pamphlets she had seen floating around detailing vampire repellents and emergency infection hotlines, with absurd titles like, _Are YOU living with a bloodsucker? _

Still, the very thought of it gave her chills. Bloodsucking people who preyed on other humans, because of a virus? _Outbreak _was one of the few movies she couldn't bear to watch all the way through. The common cold was enough to reduce her to a shivering mess. A vampire disease still seemed 99% implausible, but that niggling 1% turned her stomach.

Amy crumpled the blue leaflet into a ball, tossing it in the trash on her way to class. Hysteria-inciting propaganda like that deserved nothing better than the garbage, anyway.

History was practically a study hall. Their officious substitute demanded silence, though it wasn't as if the buzzing in the absence of sound was any less distracting than Karma's mile-a-minute speech. Amy was meticulously rounding out her essay, while Karma furiously flicked between textbooks, Internet sources and her paper. Amy ripped a sheet from her notebook and scribbled a note in barely intelligible handwriting.

_**How's the assignment going?**_

_Awfully. I'm still writing Putin when I mean to say Stalin._

Amy grinned. _**Ah, Russia. Land of strange vowels and odd names**__._

_How are you going with yours? _Karma's loopy cursive scrawled in an arc over the page.

_**Fine. It's just… really, really extensive. This is what happens when they don't give us a word limit. I can't fit it into a folder, so I'm going to have to get it bound. I'll go to the library during lunch.**_

_Uhm… I was hoping you could help me with my drama essay then. You know how bad I am at getting words in the right order._

Amy shot Karma an icy look from across the table. Karma responded with a sheepish half-grin. Amy knew that grin, and she knew resistance to it was futile- at least for her.

_**Okay, fine. I'll just go after school.**_

_You're the best, Amy._

_**Don't you dare forget it.**_

Karma and Amy entered the library after school, making a beeline for the binding machine. Both of them were keen to get home: Karma to finish her assignment, Amy to have some time to wind down. Thursdays exhausted her; why Wednesday was not a mid-week rest day would forever remain a mystery to her.

As they rounded a bookshelf, Amy pulled out the plastic sleeves containing every last page of her assignment. She got ready to line them up in the binding machine, only to find somebody had gotten there first.

Lauren was standing there, shuffling papers in and out of the machine, her perfectly manicured nails clicking against the metal. The stack of pages she was pulling from piled to a foot high on the table beside her.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked, injecting as much accusation into the question as she could.

"Binding church directories. I've got about a hundred to do, so it's going to take me at least two hours." The twinge of victorious snark in Lauren's tone didn't escape Amy's notice.

Amy didn't bother arguing with her. She turned around and stormed back out of the building, with Karma following close behind.

"I swear," Amy said through clenched teeth, "If she doesn't stop with the snooty, I'm going to shove my hairdryer up her a-"

"Amy!" Karma jumped in front of her, stopping her tracks. "Look, I think you're overreacting. It's just a binder, right?"

Amy rocked back onto her heels and sighed. "It's not just that. She's been sucking up to my Mom, and Mom's been sucking right back. Not even my bathroom is sacred. Not to mention that I'll have to go the print shop tonight-"

"I'll come with you!" Karma offered. "Come on. You have to drive me home anyway."

"Mom needs me home by four. I don't have time to go bind my assignment _and _drop you home."

Karma quirked an eyebrow. "What's your mother doing that means you can't have a Thursday afternoon to yourself?"

Amy shifted her backpack over her shoulder and continued walking to her car. "Wedding planning. I'm meant to be making "save the dates" with her tonight. Bruce is nice and all, but…"

"Lauren. I get it." Karma nodded. When Amy shook her head, it surprised her.

"Not just Lauren. It's been just my mom and I for, like, five years. It's already weird enough sharing a house, and it's only gonna get weirder when they're married."

They got to the car, and Amy opened the door for Karma, as she did every day. Karma flashed back her trademark grin.

"Hey, if things get too rough, you can always come stay with me." Karma gently shoved Amy's shoulder as they walked. "And you know how my parents are, they'd be thrilled. They might even give you one of their hippy nicknames, like Destiny, or Chakra, or-"

"Karma…"

"What?"

"I'm not planning on moving out any time soon. Plus, I'm not sure I could deal with vegan bacon that often."

"What do you think of the whole vampire thing?"

The words were out of Amy's mouth before she realized she wanted to talk about it.

"I dunno. I think it's sad, that there's no cure…. But it's also kind of hot." 

"Really, Karma?"

"What? Don't tell me you wouldn't date a vampire guy."

"No, I wouldn't," Amy said as she turned the corner into Karma's street.

"Are you racist against vampires?" Karma prodded with mock disapproval.

"Racism doesn't come into it. I wouldn't want to date someone who could kill me with their teeth. Besides, I think the entire thing's bullshit, anyway."

Karma unbuckled her seatbelt as the car slowed to a crawl. "Well, you don't have to worry about me dating Liam. He's most definitely human." She declared, slamming the car door with a flick of her wrist.

Amy drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she backed out of driveway._ I won't have to worry about her dating Liam anyway, Liam can't be something that doesn't exi-_

_Wait, DATING?_


	2. my life for a day

Warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence that some individuals may find triggering.

Amy didn't get nearly as much time to herself as she had hoped. Her mother had been obsessive over the save the dates, and by the time dinner rolled around, Amy hadn't gotten the chance to go to the print shop. She hadn't even gotten the chance to take a shower.

When she finally gathered her papers and got in her car at 8:00, she was still bothered by what Karma said that afternoon. She'd only really made a move on Liam that morning, and she was already using the word "dating"? Amy realized she had no right to feel upset- if Karma wanted to pursue a guy, Amy should be nothing but supportive. Still, she couldn't help that it irked her, how quickly things were apparently moving between them.

The print shop was the only store on the block with its lights still on. It was usually populated by tired-looking college students, but tonight the office-like establishment was unusually empty. Amy parked in the lot to the left of the building and walked in. She didn't notice the peculiar shadows that crept closer and closer behind her.

By the time Amy trudged back to her car, it was nearly nine. She damn near fell asleep at the binding station, not quite being able to concentrate enough to line up the pages. The storeowner had given her heaps about being out so late alone. This assignment had given her almost more trouble then it was worth- it would be a relief to hand it in. She was far too tired to continue worrying.

The cool night air fell over Amy like a blanket of relief as she stepped outside the shop. She slipped into the shadow of the brick veneer building and fished around in her pocket for her keys.

Amy felt a pull around her waist. She found her back to the brick, arms above her head.

She felt something sink into her neck.

Amy gasped, thrashing hopelessly against the shadow that imprisoned her in its grasp. A burning sensation spread through her clavicle, creeping up her jaw, bursting through her skin. She tried screaming. She tried freeing her wrists. The searing in her veins spread further, shooting to her core. The pit of her stomach was nursing an inferno, she was sure of it.

The night blurred before her. Scarlet clouded the edges of her vision. The dewy night dripped with a sickening scent. She found the power to glance down.

Greasy waves of black writhed on top of her.

Amy felt her knees buckle, and suddenly the pressure was gone.

She caught a glimpse of cyan orbs before their owner slipped away.

The pain in Amy's neck was replaced by a wave of violent nausea. Amy staggered over to a dumpster.

Suddenly she regretted having pasta that night.

Amy felt her knees give out again. She sank back against the wall. Something was dripping over her clavicle, running between her breasts. She lifted a pale, quivering hand to her neck.

Her fingers smoothly glided through thick liquid.

Amy tasted copper on her tongue, and felt the urge to throw up again.

_Fuck._

She was still too drained to stand. Her breath came in shallow gasps- all of the oxygen in the air refused to fill her lungs. She wanted to die. She wanted to pass out and wake up in front of pearly gates, if she woke up at all.

Hot tears slipped from her eyes, mixing with blood. It seemed pointless to move, even if she thought she could. So she remained there, stained by crimson, tainted by the poison that still throbbed ever-so-slightly through every inch of her flesh.

_I have to get up._

_I can't get up._

_But I have to._

Whatever had happened to Amy, it became apparent that she wasn't going to be allowed to curl up and die. She felt achy and weak, but she needed to take care of herself.

She didn't remember much between putting the keys in the ignition and walking through her front door. It's a miracle she wasn't wrapped around a tree off the side of the main road.

She closed the heavy wooden door, clicking the lock shut behind her. Her feet took her, in shaky steps, to the kitchen. Bruce and Farrah, as well as Lauren, had gone to bed early. Amy flicked off the downstairs light and climbed the stairs, stumbling every few feet.

The fluorescent light of the bathroom seemed too brilliant for her tender eyes. They refused to focus for near on a minute. When they finally did, Amy nearly gasped.

She looked like hell. Deep russet blood was already flaking off her bruised skin. Crimson still oozed slowly down the curve of her neck, crawling in rivulets through the threads of her t-shirt, blooming anew intermittently from her skin. Where her hair was once platinum, it reeked of iron and fury. Her pallor looked more like that of a ghost than a living human.

Amy dampened a facecloth and wiped away the blood. The cloth may as well have been paper, for all the help it was. When Amy could finally see porcelain amidst the grime, she examined the wound.

Two small, well-spaced puncture marks dotted her skin. The flesh around the wounds was swollen, already blackened with bruising.

She refused to believe it, at first. It was madness. Or a cruel prank, or a bad dream. She'd had herself convinced that vampires were nothing more than an ill-thought manifestation of mutant fantasy. Never had she believed the kids who swore they were bitten, or saw one of their friends attacked, least of all the ones who said they'd had a vampire "in thrall". They actually used that expression, too, like a human debilitated by extreme anemia was Romantic with a capital R.

She wanted to break the mirror. She wanted to go back in time and convince her past self not to be such a skeptical idiot. She wanted to punch Lauren in the face for stopping her from using the binder. She wanted to reject Karma's plea for help. She had every opportunity to avoid this, and it ate away at her- she swore she could feel it.

Amy had done the reading. She knew what being bitten meant, even if she didn't initially believe it. The venom, as they called it, didn't always take. Some people had immune systems that could take the venom. Sometimes there wasn't enough venom in the body to start with. She'd heard rumors that somewhere, a vaccine was being developed. All this meant nothing- Amy's immune system crumbled to dust in response to common cold every winter, like clockwork. Whoever had attacked her had contact for at least a few minutes. Medical help seemed all but futile.

She leaned over the basin, srutinising herself in the mirror. Tears still stained her cheeks, and weeping still rimmed her eyes.

Her arms shook against the bench.

_Get it together._ She wouldn't allow herself to cry again. Anything that she did now was a shot in the dark. There was nothing left to hope for but hope itself.

She sank to her knees again, allowing her calves contact with the cool bathroom floor.

Then Amy did something she hadn't done for five years.

She awkwardly clasped her hands together, and prayed.

"Hey, God."

Silence.

"Sorry it's been so long. You know how it is."

"Look, they all say you've got some sort of plan. Some grand idea for everyone. They say you've got it covered."

"God, please don't let the venom take. I know I have no right to ask, but… please."

She felt the tears returning, but heard nothing but the close and sterile echo of her own voice.

"Why did you let this happen to me?"

The tears flowed freely now, and it was all Amy could do to keep from screaming. She heaved silent sobs into her forearms, cursing her faithlessness and stupidity all over again.

Never in her life had Amy felt so alone.

Alone, on her bathroom floor, Amy cried until tears would no longer come. Her bloodstained cardigan was growing itchy on her shoulders. She was shivering, but barely noticed it over the wracking spasms of her chest.

The barest hint of sunrise was already creeping over the east when Amy stripped out of her shirt and crawled beneath her downy covers. She would be content to sleep forever. To sleep would be to forget how broken she felt, how tainted she felt. To sleep would be to leave behind the aching in her neck and the throbbing in her chest. She counted her heartbeats- one, two. Three, four.

Every beat could be sending a monster further through her veins. By morning, she could be consumed. The thought made the bliss of sleep even more elusive. Yet Amy hoped, and eventually, she slept.

Amy woke feeling heavy. Her eyes were bleary, reacting a few seconds slower than the rest of her. She glanced to her bedside table. Her alarm clock was not there- it was still on the floor, where it had landed yesterday. Her phone was buzzing, lighting up every few seconds. Amy scooped up the vibrating device and scrolled through the notifications.

Karma must have texted her at least fifty times. She swiped open the messages.

_Hey, is your assignment all done? (sent 9:05 pm)_

_Amy?_

_Hellooooo?_

_Why didn't you reply to me last night? (sent 7:43 am)_

_Amy?_

_Are you ignoring me? (sent 7:51 am)_

_Did I say something to upset you?_

_Amy, please, talk to me. (sent 8:15 am)_

_Are you even at school yet? Nobody's seen you (sent 8:38 am)_

_Please reply to me. I'm worried about you._

It was 9:23 on Friday morning. She had overslept. Both Bruce and Farrah left early on Fridays, and Lauren hadn't even bothered to rouse her before leaving for school herself.

Amy pushed aside the covers and set her feet on the floor. Her legs were clad in denim. _Denim isn't pyjama material._

She turned back to her bed. The pillows rested in a pile at the bedhead, as they always did, mussed and lumpy.

Only her pillows weren't normally deep red.

Amy staggered over to the mirror. Half of her blonde hair was caked in auburn. Her eyes were now a peculiar acrid green, shining like marble. And, God, she was pale. More so than her usual pallor, it was like no colour whatsoever would take to her face. She leaned closer, wrinkling her nose. Her lip lifted, revealing an unnatural gleam of white.

Oh sweet Jesus, she had fangs.

It was nearly enough to cause her stomach to convulse again. Her stomach had never felt to empty before, so agitated by hollowness. She was so sure that the bizarre flashes of terror she remembered were just stray nightmares. Now she knew they were 100% real.

_The venom took,_ she realized_. I'm infected._


End file.
